Holiday adventures PART 2: Texas Hoedown

The coolest thing about Texas (sorry Cowboys) was seeing Little One meet Her great-grandparents. Even though She decided to bond with them by giving them flashbacks of their first child- who had really, really bad colic.
It's too bad GERD baby attacked with such force, but fortunately She picked worthy adversaries. These folks have parented and grandparented colicky babies already, so they were not phased. In fact, I was taking notes. The inconsolable crying gradually faded away over the course of our trip, and in fact we had a particularly triumphant evening on December 19th. Which just so happens to be my fabulous sister's birthday.
Because my sister rocks so awsomely, we could not possibly miss her birthday dinner just because it was in a fancy restaraunt and extended past Little One's hours of safety into GERDish time. So Little One put on her party dress, and we chanced it.
Little One cooed and gurgled and giggled at fellow diners. She entertained herself with the enrancing discovery of candlelight, drank a bottle, and passed out right as dinner arrived.
The place was LOUD but Little One didn't care. She was milk-drunk and partied out, so she was unperterbable the entire rest of the evening. Added bonus: She had so much fun She decided that TX is a nice country, after all, and mostly behaved the rest of the time we were there. Yipee-ye-haw to that, ya'll.
Some pictures...

Four generations

At my sister's birthday dinner- actually socializing with other adults

A few members of the TX fan club chapter

This is my cousin, who is by the way a actual rock star. I'd just like to point that out, because it makes the expression on his face all the more priceless. And possibly lucrative, if I decide to use it as blackmail material. Resting up for the next leg of the journey...

Little One's Christmas Adventures Part One

My trip with Little One was so epic that I will have to narrate the experience in installments.
This makes me kind of like Those People (ahem....father figures? no offense buuuuttt....) who trap you, chain you to the sofa, and tape your eyes open all "Clockwork Orange" style and force you to watch a slide-show of pictures from their vacation. Or vacations. Or entire life. Depending on their cruelty and your adeptness at coming up with good excuses.
However, you my Peanuts do in fact have the ability to just click the little red "x" when you've had enough, so I've decided that this is a loophole and I refuse to feel guilty. And since this was, in fact, Little One's first vacation, plane trip, road trip, visit with great-grandparents and two aunts and first Christmas....Well. I've decided that it's my duty as a properly overbearing mother to record every detail for posterity.
So here we go, Part One. Just sit down and get comfy, and I'll go find the tape.

PART ONE: An Ominous Beginning
We are all aware of my LOPWASB fears. To combat the panic, I made lots and lots of lists.
I spent two days crossing off lists, packing, cleaning, preparing. I left super early. I got to the metro station, parked, and loaded myself up like a pack mule in pumps, and headed for the train. I was chanting my anti-LOPWASB mantra "Oooommmm I can so totally do this everything is fine Ooooommmmm". And feeling rather smug at my fabulous capableness.
Then the airline called to cheerfully alert me to my canceled flight. Dun dun duuuuun.
By the time I got ahold of an actual person at AMERICAN AIRLINES Little One was screaming her sweet little head off. But they were able to reschedule me- if I drove like a nascar racer to another airport. Which meant two busses and a train ride for J to pick up the car after he got off of work, just to drive home in DC rush hour. Which is NOT NICE American Airlines! (glaring)
But- we made it. I was mentally doing the LOPWSB mantra and simultanously praying to be seated next to a mother of seven or a deaf person, when my seatmate came along. He was very businessy, very young, and talkking football on one of his cell phones. Uh oh.
Well it turns out he was actually super nice and had a toddler himself, so really the ominousness was uncalled for on that one. AND even if he hadn't been kid friendly, I am happy to report that all your donations to the LOPWSB fund paid off! Thanks!
Other than a few moments of fussing on the next plane, Little One was an angel. And that was at 12am after we'd been traveling 12 hours and sitting on the tarmac for one, so I think she was really just voicing everyone's concerns.
In fact, I had lots of people (unfriendly looking people! WASPy people! Thug-lookin people!) Approach me when the planes arrived to tell me how good and precious Little One had been, and tell me how they could just eat her up she was so sweet. It just goes to show, I should never underestimate. Little One, myself, or strangers. And though I think I might just go ahead and continue to underestimate American Airlines a little bit, I have to appreciate that they did (eventually) get us to part two. Which is coming soon. With pictures.

Like it's Two-thou-sand and nine

How do hardcore partyers ring in the New Year as parents? Why, bring the baby with us, of course! We have to introduce her to the wild lifestyle and elite social circles early. Get her off to a good start. A few pictures of our rockin New years Eve:

My friend and I drinking our "momtinis".
This is the 'bartenders' nerdy way of saying virgin. Go figure.

J and some cute girl. I have to watch out for him at parties. A bunch of other cute girls

Hmmm...does it count if we just look drunk?

Little One on the dance floor. HAPPY 2009!!!!!!

08

Wow.
Do you know that it is 2009? Well k I'm sure you do know, but if you are suffering from a sufficient hangover you may have forgotten or just not have the capability of really grasping the fact that it is a WHOLE NEW YEAR. I have been thinking lots of thoughts about this.
I'm working on some really good resolutions, for one. Hey look sometimes quality superscedes timeliness. Actually that is sort of a motto for my life. But anyways...I'm also thinking about the year ahead and how rockin awesome it is going to be, and kinda about all the big things that might jump out of 2009 and go: "RAWR!!!!!" and what I'll say back.
But before I get to fussing all over 2009 I thought I'd say a fond farewell to '08, which frankly I think has gotten a bad rap. Besides sort of letting me down at the very end there, 2008 was definitely on my list of VIP buddies, and I think we all know why.
2008 was the Year of Little One. Can't beat that.

It's amazing to think about the length of time and the totally consuming effect on life that bringing a new little person into the world involves, but pretty much ALL of 2008, for me, was about getting Little One to go from a really really serious Wish through a few actual molecules, a squirmy little larvae, and a Jackie-Chan-kicking-alien-looking thingy, to an actual, real live mini-person out here in the World, turning into a Somebody.
It was sometimes hard. Like the time I was puking vegetable soup through my nose. It was sometimes fun, like when I felt those first little squirms or when strangers gave me their seat on the metro. It was huge and miraculous and made me have to pee a lot. In the end, for me, 2008 was a re-incarnative cocoon which I went into as just C and came out of a Mom.
So I thought I'd put out a few pictures of The Transformation in memory of 2008. And I'd also like to say, hey. Sure there was like, war and recession and global warming and stuff, but go a little easy on 2008. It did something good, too.

Just about a year ago

Valentines Day- when I "knew" but J didn't yet

J opening his gift and learning the news. Yup it was a pee stick. I'm romantic like that.

Telling the fam. Look closely at my mom's shirt. But not too closely, creepy.
A couple months along, pretty sure I had a belly already. ha. three months

four

five- actual belly sportage now

Six, getting Little One's room ready
Sevenish

Little One's first pic. Note she has the princess wave down already.
About 8 months

9 and wishing She would hurry the heck up

Minutes before leaving for the hospital. Don't worry I managed to get dressed in those minutes.

Minutes after She arrived!

One day old

One week

Two weeks

A month

Two months

December 2008

New Years Baby

Holy Moly

Little One and I got back home last night. We have a lot to catch up on! She has now spent a third of her life traveling. So she's very worldly and wise now, and we will be happy to regale you all with the Amazing Adventures of Little One just as soon as we fight off the jet lag, refill on cuddles from J and the doggies, and reacquaint ourselves with where all the light switches are. There is also a life-sized model of the Alps done in the medium of "laundry" which will need to be dismantled. But we haven't forgotten you, Peanuts.

Oh and By The Way...
Happy Hanukkah
Happy Kwanzaa
Happy Other Religious, Cultural, Commercial, and/or otherwise festive Holidays and
Merry Christmas.

A Long Story

Today is a special day for me. In a bittersweet kind of way.
Three years ago today, I got a phone call very early in the morning which was one of those things that make your heart stop and your knees buckle, even though you were expecting it. Today is when I especially remember Bernice, because it is the anniversary of when she died 3 years ago.
Bernice was my first patient when I volunteered for hospice. She got kicked off of hospice a year later, though, for just flat out refusing to die. Which was SO like her.
She was 92 when I met her. She had advanced dementia, and used to think she saw cats coming out of the air conditioning vent, and suspect the nurses aide of being a prohibition-era night club bookie. She had sparkly blue eyes, a smile so dazzling that it was pretty even without teeth, and cheekbones that Heidi Klum would kill for. She was feisty as all get out, sweet as pie, and hilarious.
The problem with Bernice was that even when you're funny and friendly and don't ask for anything, if you are marooned in a nursing home with no one to watch your back, and you have a disease which makes it impossible to advocate for yourself, you get forgotten, and sometimes mistreated. Bernice'd had the audacity to have outlived all of her family and friends. She used to have bedsores I could have fit my fist into. She would often talk and talk to herself, which annoyed some nurses into routinely putting her on psychotropic drugs so strong she wouldn't be able to move or eat for days, just lie there and drool. She had untreated infections. And other things.
No one cared at all about the complaints of some random kid. And she was my friend. So to make a long story short, I found a man who blatantly disregarded all the stereotypes he's supposed to fill as a lawyer, and became an angel for me. He took my case for free, and we got the nursing home in a bit of hot water, and in the end I became Bernice's legal guardian. Which kind of means that, at almost 96 years old, I adopted her.
Bernice was old and batty. But she was an amazing person. We had a LOT of fun together. It never mattered that most of what she said made no sense, because it was still a conversation. I never told her that no, I wasn't Essie from the club or no, it wasn't time to milk the cows, or no, that toy was not a real dog. I just went with it, and it was like being a kid and playing pretend again. And we would laugh ourselves into exhaustion, and she would say things to me like, "I'm sorry you don't have a name. But I love you." I sometimes went over to see Bernice with a heavy heart for whatever reason, but I never left with one.
My relationship with Bernice was one of the strangest I could imagine, because in a way she was like my grandmother; she was older and wiser, certainly. In moments of lucidity she gave me a lot of really profound advice and insights into life. And even though she never remembered who I was, she could tell if I was having a bad day, and would pat my hand and tell me, "there, there, now. Smile at it and it will go away".
At the same time, she was like my child. I had to cart her around. Remind her to take her vitamins. We played with dolls and toys- stuffed dogs were her favorite- I read her stories, fed her, brushed her hair, tucked her into bed. Once I had that precious guardianship paper in my hand, I made all her decisions for her.
Now that I have Little One around, I realize that Bernice taught me a lot about being a mom. For one thing, she was good practice. Once you learn how to spoon-feed a grown woman in a bad mood who keeps forgetting that she's supposed to be eating and (understandably) hates pulverized turkey, feeding a baby is a breeze. I can trim nails on a flailing hand, I can change a diaper in a blink. I can notice signs of sadness when there are no words to tell me something is wrong. I can play pretend.
But Bernice taught me more about being a parent that just those things. She taught me what it means to love someone. Love, I believe now, isn't about glittering surprises and storybook moments and getting lavished with the Things and the Words that you want. It's about patting someone on the hand when they are sad, and laughing with them when they're happy, even if what they think is funny makes no sense. It's in wiping spinach off of a chin, and putting band-aids on cuts. It's about getting screamed at and not getting angry. Bernice taught me a lot about patience and about appreciating the little payoffs you get for loving someone- a smile or a hug. And she taught me that sometimes what makes Me happiest is realizing that it's not all about Me. I think that these are all part of being a parent, too.
Taking care of Bernice was a lot of work. At the end I was going to the nursing home 3 or 4 times a day, before and after work, and on my lunch break. Fighting with nurses and trying to get her to eat. And before I had a chance to do so many of the things I had planned for her- she was gone. But I'll never regret for a second the decision to tie her life to mine for awhile. Because she was fantastic and she was a really great friend. And she gave a lot to me that enriched my life and changed it in so many ways. And because I have her to thank, in a way, for everything I have now.
It was our third date I had to cancel when Bernice got pneumonia, and J brought me dinner and a book and stayed up with me all night in the hospital, holding her hand and talking with her quietly. And I knew there was something special about that guy. The day she passed away, I was so unprepared, suddenly having to sort out what to do with her, her stuff, her paperwork, and at the same time grieving. He sat in a chair in the hallway for hours without me even having a chance to speak to him. Not telling me what to do or trying to take over, but just being There. And I knew I was about to marry the right person.
I like to tell Bernice's story partly because I hope it sheds some light on a big problem that most of us tend to ignore. And partly to try to let people know that making friends with crazy old ladies can be super. And partly because it helps me feel like she's not being forgotten ever again.
Which as long as I'm around, she wont be. There are some toys in Little One's nursery that, if you look closely, have Bernice scrawled on the bottom in permanent marker. And She doesn't know it but the truth is that there are lots of other things, intangible ones, in Little One's world, that have Bernice's stamp on them too. Today I'm extra grateful for those things.

Directions

By the way...

For all you Peanuts who email, call, and text in response to the blog, I just wanted to let you know that you can respond directly if you want to, and I will even welcome your comments. You can even comment on other people's comments. You can even comment on other peoples comments on comments! So just in case you didn't know, Peanuts,
the Gallery is down there.
At the bottom of each post you can click "comments" and deposit your Two Cents wherever you like. Better take me up on the offer, it may not extend into real life. ;)

PS- You don't have to create and account to leave a comment as long as you choose "anonymous" as your "identity". You can always sign your name at the end of your comment if you really really want credit for your witty and clever remarks, don't worry.

8PM

Sssshhhh. (**whispering**) I just wanted to tell the universe that tonight Little One was put to bed all by herself at 8pm. And she fell asleep. Leaving me and J downstairs, with the long forgotten ability to do Other Things. !!!!! This means that we had hours of time all by ourselves to do whatever we wanted! Hee hee! The possibilities were endless! Hee hee! Ssshhh!
So endless, in fact, as to be overwhelming and short-circuit our imagination-boards. J is doing homework, and I went to bed. To end the Eerie Silence. But the possibilities were there, leaving open the glimmer of a hope that they will be back again. Which is pretty darn exciting all on its own, if you ask me. Tee hee hee!!!! SSHHHHHH!!!!!

Charity Case

We've all experienced it. Suffered through it. Sometimes from a few rows back, sometimes from the dreaded Seat Next To. But we've all been subjected, at some point, to the LOPWASB. You know what I mean. The horrible (*cue scary music*) Lady On Plane With A Screaming Baby!!
Ahhhh!!! Well, you know what's worse than being Next To the LOPWASB? Being the LOPWASB.
And my friends, the countdown in on. Only three days until I face the painful, terrible, yet inevitable metamorphosis into this undesirable creature. In three days, Little One and I are going on our biggest adventure yet. All by ourselves we will be navigating the Metro, checking in, and then crossing the country on a tour of three states including FIVE airplanes, four layovers, two plane changes, and a road trip. Oh my.
It is one thing to incite irritation and loathing in a bunch of strangers. Psht. Who needs Little One for that? Most of you have driven with me, no? I do it all the time. BUT it is quite another matter to do it with a bunch of strangers you are trapped with in a small metal tube. For hours. And hours. Oh my. These people might be armed. With Squinty Eyes. Or Exaggerated Sighs. Or three-ounces-or-less of some nefarious liquid! (*scary music again*)
Well Little One and me, we're a couple of renegades. We laugh in the face of danger. It's a nervous laugh, kind of a titter, really, but still we LAUGH! We think we're up for the challenge. Still, I just wanted to let you know that we are currently taking donations to the LOPWASB fund. We will accept: Luck, Prayers, Well-Wishes, Crossed Fingers, Protective Amulets, Magic Spells, and Naive Hopes. If you have it in your heart this Holiday season, please feel free to contribute.

Addendum

As of yesterday we have a couple more firsts to add to the list - first shots, and first fever.
Ouch. I am happy to report, though, that Little One was a TROOper. Of course, the sensation of having a piece of metal shoved into Her formerly unblemished thigh pudge- repeatedly- was enough to bring on a few tears. But as soon as that part was over She calmed right down, and even offered a little "I forgive you, you creep" smile to the tech.
She then proceeded to be quite angelic all day, accompanying me to the hair salon and doing nothing to help teenage pregnancy rates by creating an illusion which prompted the following reaction from the perky high school students at the front desk:
"aaaawwww, she's so GOOOoood! Babies are so much Fuuuuunnnn! I want a cute little girl like thiiIIIIiissss!" All of which are true to some degree, sure. But I have a feeling all this salon-perkiness has impeded these girls from participating in the field of babysitting, otherwise known as "motivational birth control". What can I do? Little One refused to do anything other than bat Her eyelashes, coo, and giggle. Sheesh.
She did try to make up for it a bit later when we were out to lunch with my cousin and the fever hit. But, silly girl, it was too late to be helpful. All those people were grown up and already knew that they don't like babies.
This brief bout of whimpering was all the complaining She did, though. Once home, Little One suffered in silence, even though She was clearly uncomfy. She spent most of the evening with a look on Her face which is exactly what you will picture when I say, "picture a sad, pouty baby face". Her little mouth was in a perfect upside-down "U", Her bottom lip pooched out, and occasionally quivering. A little tear hanging out there, in the corner of Her eye. But She didn't cry.
She was so busy trying to keep a stiff upper lip (having given up on the bottom one) that She didn't even cry at Her usual cry time. She tried Her best to tough it out, and all She wanted was some extra cuddles. Which brings me to one more first, which I'm sad came about because She wasn't feeling good, but I couldn't help but to have enjoyed just a little.
Yesterday is when She first began, upon being set down at various points in evening, to notice my absence, look around, and reach out Her arms. "Oh, what's that, Little One, you want me to give you a cuddle? Me??" I swear I'm trying not to let it go to my head. To my heart, now, that's another matter.

Live it up, friends

One of the best parts about being a parent, about being around any kids at all, really, is that everything is waaaaay more fun. Everything. The weather, street signs, pasta, whatever. One of the reasons everything is so much more exciting with a baby is that each moment of life is action and drama packed, like a good made for TV movie.
I mean, just think of it, everywhere I go, I'm on the edge of my seat. "Will She start shrieking while I'm stuck in line here at the post office?" "Will She get hungry while I'm trapped in rush hour traffic on the Beltway??" "Will that lady in isle six try to wrangle her from my grasp and start squealing at Her- again?" "Will anyone notice that it's spit-up cascading down my black sweater and not a trendy decal?!" It's all a big adventure.
But the really really fun part of it is that just about everything that happens in life right now- snowstorms, Target runs, Jehovah's Witnesses at the door- is happening for the first time. Not to me, of course. I've chatted up many a Witness. But for Little One, the world is all sparkly and new, and everything is a grand experience.
And since it's too early to sign her up for the ballet academy, the National Orchestra, and the NFL, I have to live vicariously through the everyday things. Which, so far, is pretty awesome.
Now, I did restrain myself enough not to ask the Witnesses to pose for a picture before sending them off to enlighten the Other masses, but I happen to have caught a few of Little One's "Firsts" on camera. So, since you probably like vicariousness too, here are some:

First outfit She was big enough to wear (she now wears that dress as a shirt)

Even better- first shoes

Right after Her first bath

First outing with Mom and Dad (and Grandma!) For Ice cream, of course.

First hiking trip (only pic we got before the camera died. She's in there though, really)

First bottle



First walk in the stroller

First snow! Obviously, She is really, really excited.

2 Months

Today is Little One's 2 month birthday. Yay, Little One! Little One is industrious. She has spent the last month deeply involved with Research and Development, learning how to be the Best baby She can be, the better to manipulate Her parents. She has made some outstanding advancements. Here is a list of some of Her latest:

Communications
Little One has The Coo! This means that Little One now has vocal talents extending beyond the Howl, the Cry, the Scream, the Grunt, and the Giggle. She coos. It is a sound which makes you just want to clasp your hands together by your chin and go, "Aaawwwww!" Especially because it usually occurs in conjunction with smiling. Most of the cooing is still directed at Her Bee toy, rather than at Her parents. Which shows you where Her loyalties lie. But it's cute enough not to matter to us.

Sleep advancements
3 major things have happened in the field of Sleepology. One is that Little One has done extensive trials involving a cohort of All Hours of The Night, and has concluded that She concurs with us that bedtime is between 9 and 10 pm. She also concurs that nighttime is pretty good for getting Her sleep on, and usually only wakes us two times per night, + or - one.
Number 2 is that Little One has started getting fussy when She's sleepy, rather than just passing out narcoleptic-style. Which means She is starting to realize "hey, this is what it feels like to be getting ready for a nap". Which is good, because it is a step on the way to regular naps. Which Little One and I have started to practice. Sleep Training has officially begun. Which leads me to number 3. Little One has started to take a morning nap in her crib. She had to really check that out, get in and out of it a lot, wiggle around, try out the acoustics in the room, but She's decided She's down to party in her crib.

Anthropology
Little One is making great strides in learning to communicate with the Natives. She likes to study faces, attempt the language (see Coo, above), and interact in all kinds of fun ways. One of which is the smacking of said faces with Her hand. J and I haven't decided whether this is cute or an attempt at mutiny. Hmm. Time will tell.
She has also discovered the existence of a very good looking hominid, which can be routinely observed on the changing table, the play gym, and in the car. This person is about eye level in size, and has the uncanny ability to predict when Little One is going to move and to copy Her exactly. Which is fascinating.

Biology
Little One has discovered Hands. She's not too sure, but She thinks that they might be attached to Her. Further research will be required. They do taste pretty good, though. We know that much.
She has worked hard on general growth. When she first arrived, even the smallest clothes made Her look like She'd just come off the set of 'honey I shrunk the kids'. Now, She's actually starting to get too big for some of Her outfits.
She has successfully also transformed skinny little chicken legs into fabulous pudgy appendages with new and improved rolls and dimples.
She has made great strides in the Development arena of this field too. She is able to hold her head up for pretty much as long as She wants, and turn it to look at things. She can push up when She's on her tummy, enough to raise her head all the way off the floor. Unfortunately, this is usually done in order to maximize the projection of vehement protesting about the indignity of being on her tummy in the first place.
She loves to work out Her legs, though. She can just kick up a storm all day long, and looooves to be held under the arms so She can bounce like She's on a trampoline. If I sit with my knees bent and lean her against them, She furrows Her brow. She gets a look of supreme focus. She clenches her fists. Then She uses her legs to push herself all the way up to a standing position, at which point She is so proud, She breaks into a BIG smile and does a victory dance- flailing Her arms around, bobbleing Her head, and bouncing a little. I think She's thinking lucrative work-out DVD sales from this discovery.


Philosophy
Little One has come to the following conclusions about the inherent "goodness" or "badness" of the following subjects:
Baths- still good
Showers- super good
lotion- bad
hair brushing- bad
having clothing removed- good
having clothing applied-bad
car rides- neutral
car seat- bad, bad
riding in a sling- very good
reading books with Daddy- very very good
night lights- good
music box- good
play gym- very good
tummy time- bad. SO bad. Very very super bad.
rocking chair- sort of good
swing- pretty good
bounce chair- mostly good
cuddles- still, incomparably, the good-est of everything.

Overall, Little One is definitely bettering the world for Mankind. The GERD has up and down days, but it hasn't stopped Her from making all this good progress. She's discovered vast new reserves of Adorableness, as well. Happy Birthday to my little scientist. I can't wait to see what She'll come up with next.